Page 34 of Holding The Reins

“You did great today, darlin’, and you should give that Kevin a call. He’s cute.” She looks at me as she says it. The idea of CeCe going anywhere with Kevin has my blood boiling in two seconds flat.

“Yeah, he’s nice but I’m not looking to date anyone right now. At all,” she says back.

‘Who said anything about dating?” Sonny winks at her and CeCe laughs.

A barrage of cuss words fly through my head at my beloved little Sonny.

“Now, that’s more my style right now,” she says back to Sonny and I inadvertently scoff, loudly. I instantly regret it. Both women look at me with disgust at the sound I just made.

CeCe starts laughing and puts her hands on her hips.

“Oh, I know you of all people aren’t slut shaming me, Nash Carter.” This woman’s mouth.

Sonny roars with laughter.

“Not at all.” I clear my throat, back peddling. “Just wouldn’t be wise to get involved with anyone we’ll be working with on this event. It has to go smoothly.”

“Oh yeah, I guess so. You’re right,” CeCe says. “Your ‘cardinal rule.’” She uses air quotes then she pats me on the shoulder and heads over to her desk.

“Yep,” I bite out while Sonny snickers.

I stand and say goodbye to both of them. Just feeling the need to get the fuck out of here, I make a beeline for my own office. Only two things on my mind. Use that phone number Cole gave me real soon, and make sure every goddamn man in this town is helping us with our Sundown Festival so they’re off limits to CeCe.

Imiraculously manage to keep my hands to myself over the next three weeks, or “keep it in my pants,” as Sonny advised. And although it’s not without incredible effort, deep down I know she’s right.

CeCe has charmed not only the township but all the local businesses too. She has thirty-seven local artisans from town and the surrounding counties coming to sell their wares so far, and they’ve agreed to donate a large portion of the proceeds to the Lightning.

Spending every day with CeCe is the worst kind of torture for me. The kind I both can’t stand and race to be a part of every damn day. If it isn’t enough that she comes in every morning looking like a cross between the hot accountant and the fresh faced college girl, her brain is the most attractive thing about her. Her ideas are smart and thought out. She’s managed to organize a file room for all the paperwork, she’s sent it out to have it digitized, and she’s got our accounting system well on its way to law and order. All in under a month.

When CeCe is around, everything is just a little brighter. A little more exciting. She’s like bringing sunshine into the office. I’m pretty sure Sonny is going to ask to adopt her—they have become the best of friends and have dubbed themselves Thelma and Louise. They bring each other books and baked goods, for Christ’s sake. Sonny doesn’t have much since her husband died and seeing CeCe laugh with her every day and show an interest in her grandkids is the sweetest fucking thing I’ve witnessed as they work day in and day out on the Sundown Festival.

We’ll be blocking off all of Main and part of Decker Lane for the festival. Wade and Cole have even offered to help in any way they can, and Silver Pines is donating a horseback lesson package to be auctioned off.

A lot of my active and retired—but still very famous—NHL buddies are coming out of the woodwork during the offseason to sign autographs and do meet and greets. Cory Kane, for one, still plays with the Nashville Predators and is a big draw. He’s going to help me run the shootout competition. I have synthetic ice coming in, because Kentucky in late August is still steamy as hell. A host of activities will happen in the Center parking lot as well, and we may even have enough for a team. CeCe had the idea to put on a game of Pros vs Townies, incorporating the police department, fire department, anyone that lives in Laurel Creek and wants to take us on.

I hop out of my truck and head inside. I have no camps running this week, and Chris is handling classes for me so I can spend the week getting all the details set in stone with CeCe and Sonny.

CeCe is giving up her usual Monday off today, and we’re meeting with the municipality to go over zoning rules and to fill our permit documentation. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it way more than I should.

I find myself wondering what she’ll wear or how her hair will be styled as I make my way through the parking lot like a love-sick teenager. I’m over scolding myself. It would be impossible for any man not to be attracted to CeCe Ashby, is what I settle with. It makes me feel a little better about picturing her sliding off those silky little blouses she wears that hug those perfect tits, when I’m fisting myself in the shower almost nightly after spending my days with her. I imagine it’s her full, cherry lips wrapped around me—not my own hand—or her moaning my name as I drive into her, gripping her hair as I take her from behind. After almost a month with her, I have several fantasies saved up to choose from.

The scene is already bustling at Olympia when I breeze through the doors. Avery’s training the figure skating group on rink one, Chris and a helper are running power skating on rink two and happy kids are milling about. There are days when this dream feels even more fulfilling than my NHL dream. Like I’m giving back to my childhood self and making my parents proud. There were times when I know they struggled, and if there was a place like this to help them, it would’ve meant the world. The familiar pang of guilt settles in my soul that always creeps in when I think about everything they did so I could play hockey. Essentially, they even died for it.

CeCe has her head resting on her folded arms on her desk when I come in, the coffee I left her on her porch rail this morning is beside her, and Sonny sits across from her.

“Uh-oh, here’s the hard ass,” Sonny quips as she giggles.

“Not one word this morning, Nash Carter,” CeCe groans, her voice muffled as I chuckle.

“Have one too many sangrias last night, Rae?”

Fucking right she did. She danced all night with her Not Angels and Avery while I kept tabs on her fan club of men that are slowly starting to pile into lady’s night every week.

She raises her pretty little head and looks at me. She’s dressed casual today, as most women in town are on Mondays. Laurel Creek, Kentucky; the only place in the continental US that needs a casual Monday.

Her long wavy hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and she’s wearing Birkenstocks and a sleeveless navy sundress that falls to her ankles.

“I don’t want to hear one word until my Advil kicks in.”

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